


It's All Lies

by Arwriter



Series: Repression [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Misunderstandings, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Roman is doing his best, Unsympathetic Dark Sides (Sanders Sides), Unsympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders, Virgil’s family loves him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:14:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24885148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arwriter/pseuds/Arwriter
Summary: "Oh, Virgil. Did you really think anyone besides me would want you? Did you never stop to think how hard it was for me?”Deceit slowly pulled his hand away from Virgil’s jaw, moving to cup the back of the anxious side’s neck, keeping him from pulling away. It didn’t feel comforting. It felt like a restraint.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders
Series: Repression [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1797523
Comments: 17
Kudos: 244





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My oneshot is now a series, congrats.  
> Unsympathetic Dark Sides have a lot of opportunity for angst

_ “Oh, Virgil. You never cared about me at all, did you?”  _

Virgil froze, dread clawing up his throat, trying to force out the words that formed so easily, apologies and desperate pleas the voice wanted so badly, the words he’d gotten so many times before. 

But he forced it back down, focused on his breathing, because he didn’t need to do that anymore. He wasn’t with the dark sides. He had a family who felt safe, who cared how a family should, and he could begin to recognize Deceit’s manipulation for what it was. 

Briefly, he wondered how the dark side kept managing to sneak up on him so easily. Virgil wasn’t even sure where he was, everything dark and almost distorted. Deceit was behind him, he could feel the dark and looming presence, his words sharp and venomous, the anxious side shuddering under the weight of his gaze. 

Virgil said nothing, holding his ground. He thought he could hear Remus’ all too familiar cackling somewhere in the distance, eliciting a new wave of fear that tightened in his chest, but he shut his eyes and tried to block it all out. 

_ “You won’t even look at me?”  _ Deceit asked, hurt seeping into his voice, hurt Virgil knew was fake. It had to be fake. Deceit didn’t care.  _ “Does everything I’ve done for you really mean that little?”  _

“You didn’t--” Virgil clamped his mouth shut as soon as he started talking, but the damage was already done. He could hear Deceit move behind him, closer and closer, the urge to open his eyes and see the snake for himself growing more overwhelming. 

_ It’s not real.  _ His own thoughts were muddled and quiet, powerless.  _ It’s not real, he’s not here he’s not here, he’s--  _

A hand on his arm made him jump, the grip curling around his hoodie cold and restricting. Virgil’s breath caught in his throat, shuddering under the touch, too weak to pull away. 

_ “Virgil,”  _ Deceit practically cooed, fingers digging into the anxious side’s arms.  _ “Open your eyes. I won’t hurt you.”  _

It was a lie. Everything Deceit said was a lie. He wasn’t safe, even in his own head, Deceit still had all the power over him. 

But Virgil obeyed, slowly blinking his eyes open to the dark room he’d found himself in once again, gaze still glued firmly to the ground. 

There was a gloved hand against his jaw, moving too fast for him to pull back in time. Deceit grabbed his chin and forced his head up, high enough to look the dark side in his mismatched eyes, to see Deceit’s scales through the empty shadows. 

_ “Oh, Virgil. What have you done this time?”  _

His words, condescending and sickly sweet, felt like ice water in his veins, blind panic building up in his chest. He knew that tone, knew it meant he had done something wrong. 

Arguably, the tone that reeked of false security and bitterness was even worse than when Deceit’s face would twist in rage, when he would yell and hurl insults until Virgil thought his head would split open from the noise, each unpredictable movement sending the anxious side flinching into a corner, always waiting on the worst. 

Granted, it was incredibly rare of Deceit to lose his cool, even more so for him to react impulsively. Virgil’s reactions were simply him overthinking as usual, and often only served to annoy the other side even more. 

Remus always found it funny somehow, when Virgil would cower on a particularly anxious day, waiting for a punishment that was unlikely to ever come. He’d used it for his own entertainment more times than Virgil could count. 

But this anger, the calm and collected Deceit that loomed over him, the patronizing kindness that didn’t reach his eyes and the too tight hold on his skin, just left Virgil frozen and terrified. 

“I didn’t--” he swallowed, voice breathy and shaking, forcing the words out as best he could with a gloved hand still wrapped around his jaw. “I didn’t do anything, I--” 

Deceit’s hand tightened without warning, Virgil barely able to suppress a cry of pain as he stumbled back, pushing uselessly at the other side’s arm. 

_ “You can’t actually be that stupid,”  _ Deceit said, that same pretentious drawl that always got under Virgil’s skin.  _ “You know you’ve upset them, don’t you? That family you claim to care so much about?”  _

“I didn’t--” 

_ “Don’t you know what you’ve done?”  _

He didn’t. He didn’t even remember how he’d gotten here, his head pounding and thoughts fuzzy. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been here, trembling and terrified, left doing his best to avoid eye contact. 

Deceit looked annoyed now, despite the soft smile still plastered on his face. Virgil knew well enough to look past whatever calm facade he put on, especially when his jaw was being squeezed hard enough to bruise. 

_ “Honestly, Virgil. I don’t know how you expect anybody to put up with you. You belong here with me. No one else knows how to handle you.”  _

Virgil suddenly feels dizzy, almost weightless, like Deceit’s less than gentle grasp is the only thing keeping him upright. He couldn’t stop trembling, but the air around him was uncomfortably thick and warm. 

_ “You look scared.”  _ Deceit honest to god sounded concerned, his eyes brimming with pity that made Virgil feel small.  _ “Do you really hate me that much? Even after everything I’ve done for you?” _

“I...I don’t…” He couldn’t get the words out, couldn’t focus his thoughts long enough to figure out how to respond. He hated Deceit. He  _ did.  _

But for the life of him, he couldn’t remember why. Not when he was struggling to wrap his head around the fact that the others were upset with him, that he’d done something wrong  _ again.  _

Was Deceit mad at him, too? He didn’t look mad, not anymore at least. Just annoyed that Virgil was so slow to comprehend what was happening, everything too fast and confusing. 

“What…” Virgil swallowed and choked back tears, refusing to cry in front of Deceit. He couldn’t make him upset. “What did I do?” 

Deceit smiled again, that fake pitying grin, and Virgil wanted nothing more than to sink into his hoodie and disappear. 

_ “You don’t remember?”  _ he asked.  _ “The fight in the kitchen? The one that you started? Don’t you remember how awful you made them feel?”  _

Virgil blinked, desperately trying to remember- remember anything outside of being trapped here with Deceit, of being afraid and powerless. 

He could remember Patton’s kind voice, Roman’s bright laughter, Logan’s steady reassurances on particularly bad days. And...had they been upset with him? How long had it been since they’d spoken? 

_ “You thought they were going to hurt you,”  _ Deceit explained, and now that Virgil wasn’t looking at his expression it sounded...almost sympathetic.  _ “Why would you think that? I thought they cared about you now.”  _

“I don’t…” 

_ “But you knew, didn’t you? You knew it was only a matter of time. They accepted you because they had to. For Thomas. It was never for you.”  _

“I--” 

_ “You can’t honestly think they want you. That they wouldn’t get fed up eventually. You know you’re too much to handle, don’t you Virgil?”  _

“I’m not--” 

_ “But you are. Oh, Virgil you really think anyone besides me would be willing to even try? Did you never stop to think how hard it was for me?”  _

Deceit slowly pulled his hand away from Virgil’s jaw, moving to cup the back of the anxious side’s neck, keeping him from pulling away. It didn’t feel comforting. It felt like a restraint. 

_ “They pushed you away for so long,”  _ Deceit said.  _ “They don’t want Anxiety around. I’m the only one who ever will. And did I ever hurt you?”  _

Virgil opened his mouth to respond, to say no, of course not, desperate to end this conversation and get away. But the words got caught in his throat, confusion and fear waging war in his scrambled mind. 

The answer was no. Deceit had a different approach than the other sides, but he wasn’t cruel. Not to Virgil. 

Right? 

The hand on the back of his neck tightened, and Virgil couldn’t stop himself from gasping and flinching away, the movement only making Deceit hold tighter. 

He used his free hand to grab Virgil by the chin again, roughly forcing him to meet his eyes. No matter how hard he tried, Virgil couldn’t look away. 

_ “I have never hurt you,”  _ Deceit all but growled, and the sickening sympathy was quickly melting away to something worse.  _ “Never. Don’t you trust me? Are you that desperate to make yourself a victim that you’re willing to lie?”  _

Virgil couldn’t breathe. His chest was too tight, Deceit was too close, too loud. He couldn’t stop shaking, every part of him aching and throbbing as he struggled to breathe, no longer bothering to stop the tears blurring his already hazy vision. 

But he wasn’t lying. He hadn’t even answered. But Deceit had the right to be angry, didn’t he? He had never hurt Virgil. He would never…

He was hurting Virgil right now. He wouldn’t let him go, no matter how desperate he struggled in the other side’s grip. 

“Please--” 

Everything around him felt more distant now, a dull ringing in his ear drowning out the sound of his own heartbeat, Deceit’s voice melting away. 

But the vice-like grip still wouldn’t let up, and Virgil heard himself whimper through the chaos. 

_ “Say it, Virgil,”  _ Deceit snarled, still loud enough to pierce the fog that had settled around them.  _ “Tell me the truth.”  _

He could barely open his mouth with the way Deceit was holding him, his voice hoarse and weak when he forced it through chattering teeth. 

“You…” He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what was happening. He just wanted it to stop. He needed Deceit to let him  _ go.  _ “You never...you never hurt me, Deceit. Never.” 

And just like that, it was over. The hold on him was gone, vanished like it had never been there in the first place, taking with it the pain and confusion. 

The real world came back in a rush of memories, lights, and voices, hitting Virgil like a tidal wave as he gasped and shot up, blinking wildly to register where he was. 

There were figures around him coming into focus, their voices high and frantic all blending together, moving too quickly, too close. 

He scrambled backwards before he could be grabbed again, pressing himself back into the cushion of the couch he vaguely recognized through his panic, breathing turning to frantic wheezes. 

“Virgil.” 

The voice made him freeze, strong and collected, not overwhelmingly piercing like Deceit’s had been. He risked a cautious glance towards the source, nearly dizzy with relief when he found kind, familiar eyes behind black glasses. 

“L-Logan?” 

“I’m here,” Logan said, his smile genuine, watching Virgil with sympathy and concern. “Do you know where you are?” 

Virgil reluctantly broke eye contact to scan his surroundings, catching sight of a visibly worried Patton fidgeting behind Logan, the two of them crouched on the floor in front of him. Roman was on the other end of the couch, hands held by his chest in a placating gesture, smiling softly when Virgil saw him. 

“Living room,” he managed, taking another steadying breath. “I...no, no he’s here, he- he was right here--” 

“Virgil--” 

“Deceit’s here,” he tried desperately, searching each of their faces for any hint of a disguise. Why weren’t they worried? “He-he was...he’s--” 

“You were having a nightmare,” Logan said, firm but still gentle, a tone Virgil hoped to god Deceit would never be able to replicate. “He’s not here. It was a dream, Virgil. Just a dream. We’re all safe.” 

Virgil stayed where he was, curled up in a tense ball, focusing wholly on Logan’s calm mantra, wordlessly following the logical side’s exaggerated breathing until he was taking in somewhat normal breaths on his own. 

The walls weren’t closing in. He wasn’t trapped in the shadows with the false image of Deceit trying to choke the life out of him. His family wasn’t angry with him, only quietly worried. He was safe. 

So why couldn’t he stop shaking? 

“Hey, kiddo,” Patton said, slow and careful, not at all like the too eager disguise Deceit had used. “You back with us?” 

Virgil nodded, still unsteady and unsure, eyes darting back and forth, not even sure what he was looking for anymore. 

“You’ve had a rough day,” Roman spoke up, uncharacteristically quiet. “You gave us quite a scare there, Dr. Gloom.” 

Roman reached forward for Virgil’s hand, slow and cautious as ever. It was something he’d done a thousand times before, a touch Virgil wanted so desperately to lean into, an unbreakable sense of security. 

But when Prince moved, all Virgil could see was Deceit’s cold yellow eyes, the way he had trapped him, holding him until he couldn’t breathe, too close too close  _ too close--  _

_ You knew it was only a matter of time.  _

He jerked away from the touch before he could stop himself, the guilt in his chest almost suffocating when he saw Roman’s face fall, pulling his hand away like he’d been burnt. 

“Sorry,” Virgil gasped, digging his nails into his palms until he thought it might draw blood. “S-sorry, Roman, I’m so sorry--” 

“Hey, no it’s ok,” Princey promised, but he was considerably more uneasy, like Virgil was a ticking time bomb. “I shouldn’t have...I…” 

It wasn’t like the creative side to stumble like this, and Virgil saw him look helplessly to Patton and Logan, like a scared child needing some kind of direction. 

“Why don’t you get Virgil some water?” Patton offered, and Roman’s shoulders sagged in relief at the sight of an escape route. “I’m sure he could use it.” 

He didn’t even wait for Virgil to agree before nodding and swinging his legs over the couch, looking for all the world like he wanted to jump up and bolt out of the living room as quickly as he could. 

But he caught himself at the last second, coming to his senses with one last glance at Virgil, visibly forcing himself to move slowly until he was off the couch and down the hall. 

“I’m ok,” Virgil rasped as soon as he found his voice again, stubbornly avoiding looking at the other two. “I’m fine, guys. Just a bad dream, right? You’re...we’re all ok.” 

He heard Logan clear his throat, watching out of the corner of his eye as he stood, slowly lowering himself onto the couch. He was careful to keep a few inches of space between them, never even coming close to touching. 

“I...I really am sorry.” It was quiet and small when Virgil spoke again, but Patton still made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a choked back sob. 

“No more of that, kiddo. I told you, you have nothing to apologize for. Just let us take care of you, alright?” 

Virgil didn’t respond, just hunched his shoulders and stared at his trembling hands. He wondered if he was imagining the concealed exasperation in the other side's voice, Deceit’s words still playing in his head like a broken record. 

He kept doing this to them. He kept messing something up no matter how hard he tried, forcing them to help him out of obligation or pity or whatever it was they felt towards him, apologizing over and over again for something he couldn’t stop. 

Apologizing didn’t make it right. Feeling sorry didn’t change the fact that he kept putting them through this. 

He wasn’t worth it. He was too much to handle, too much bad and not enough good. No matter how hard he tried. 

But wallowing in fear of abandonment would just annoy them even more. He’d already driven Roman away, and he struggled to ignore the sick twisting in his gut at the thought that he’d done irreparable damage to their already rocky relationship. 

As if on cue, the sound of quick footsteps announced Princey’s return, a tall glass of iced water clutched in his hand. He handed it to Virgil, taking care to make sure their fingers didn’t even come close to brushing, stepping back a good few feet once the anxious side managed a shaky hold. 

Virgil tried to ignore the way his chest tightened at the overly careful movements, the way all three of them were so careful not to touch him. It was his own fault, anyway. He was the one who couldn’t get over a stupid nightmare. 

Logan cleared his throat as the room fell into a heavy, uncomfortable silence, Patton shifting uncomfortably at the other end of the couch. 

“Virgil,” Logan began, still kneeled in front of the couch. “I...believe we all owe you an apology for not realizing sooner that you were not quite yourself.” 

Virgil just shrugged, forcing himself to swallow another mouthful of water. “It’s fine. Really. You guys have your own problems.” 

“That’s not an excuse. You always keep an eye on us, even before we...accepted you. And now that you’re a part of this family, we want to be able to do the same. I sincerely apologize for letting things get this bad today.” 

Virgil didn’t look up, staring at his own lap through the bottom of the water glass. Logan wasn’t upset with him, he was fairly sure of that. Or he was at least making a decent effort to hide it. 

“These nightmares,” he continued, when it was clear Virgil didn’t know how to respond. “Are they recurring?” 

Virgil shrugged, too many eyes on him, too many emotions he couldn’t quite place. He couldn’t lie, they would only get more frustrated if he did. 

“I guess,” he admitted. “I mean, not really anymore. This week they’ve just been...yeah. Not great.” 

“Because of Deceit?” 

Virgil winced at the name, at the sudden reminder of what had him in this state in the first place, of where he used to be. But he nodded all the same, feeling nothing but pathetic and vulnerable. 

“Kiddo,” Patton said, voice oddly strained. “You know you can always come to us, right?” 

_ You’ve upset them.  _

_ Honestly, Virgil. I don’t know how you expect anybody to put up with you.  _

He was too much, too much stress. Even when he’d tried to keep his stupid problems to himself, it had only succeeded in making them more upset. 

“It’s just a nightmare,” he muttered. “It’s not a big deal.” 

He hoped that was it, that they would drop the subject and leave him to his own devices. He didn’t want to be alone, but at least it would mean an end to this conversation. 

He likes looking up, heart sinking in panic when he caught the other sides sharing worried glances, brows furrowed like they weren’t exactly sure how to continue. 

“Virgil,” Patton started, subtly glancing at Logan every few seconds for some unspoken sign. “Can we...we want to talk about what happened earlier today. When we argued.” 

Virgil tensed, suddenly wondering if he would be able to escape to his room before anyone could stop him. He didn’t need to be berated for overreacting to a problem  _ he  _ had created all on his own. He already knew. 

Virgil opened his mouth to apologize for the outburst, hoping it would be enough to deter any further discussion, before remembering Patton had explicitly told him not to. 

Luckily, Logan always seemed to know what he was thinking. “We aren’t angry with you. I need you to remember that.” 

“Of course not,” Roman jumped in, Patton nodding eagerly in agreement. “We’re just...worried, is all.”

“Kiddo, you thought...some of the things you were saying had some, uhm...implications, I guess. And we just…” 

Patton trailed off as Virgil involuntarily curled in on himself. He knew exactly where this conversation was going, and he would do anything to get out of it. 

He knew he’d upset them with the way he reacted. He  _ knew  _ that. They said they weren’t angry, sure, but it didn’t change the fact that their guilt was his fault. 

All they'd done for him, all the sacrifices they’d made to make him feel accommodated, and he repaid them with this. By making them think they’d done something wrong, by putting more weight on their shoulders. By making them deal with even more of his unsolvable problems. 

They would try to help. They were kind and good, and they needed to look out for Thomas. They couldn’t let this affect him. 

Unless they realized just how effective cruelty was as a method of controlling Virgil, keeping him subdued for Thomas’s sake, and he lost their kindness for good.

But, no. No, they wouldn’t do that. That was Deceit’s voice putting ideas in his head again. They weren’t like the others. They cared about him, as hard as it was to believe sometimes. 

“Virgil? Is it alright if I touch you?” 

He forced himself to meet Logan’s gaze, the teacher sincere and patient. It wasn’t like it had been in the dream, he wouldn’t do anything Vigil didn’t want him to. He was asking permission, and would back off if needed. 

Hesitantly, he nodded and let the other side take his hand. Logan rubbed circles along his palm with his thumb, a slow and repetitive motion that always helped to calm Virgil’s nerves. 

Patton smiled sadly beside him, and Roman bit his lip, averting his gaze to stare at the ground. 

“This may be difficult to talk about,” Logan began. “But you cannot deny that you believed some kind of punishment was coming. That one of us was going to hurt you.” 

Hearing it said aloud, Logan reciting his anxious thoughts with such calm clarity, the weight of how stupid he’d been hit him full force, and Virgil felt his ears burn. 

But he couldn’t deny that, yes, in the moment he’d been almost completely sure that something bad was coming. That he’d honestly done something to warrant some kind of beating. 

He wasn’t sure how to respond, though Logan seemed to take his tense silence as an affirmative. The others did too, judging by the way Patton’s eyes filled with tears and Roman swore under his breath, fidgeting restlessly where he stood. 

“I-I’m so sorry,” Virgil managed, wincing as Patton visibly struggled to remain put together enough to listen. “I know you guys wouldn’t-wouldn’t do...that.”

Logan squeezed his hand, an attempt to keep him grounded as Virgil’s words began to falter. He couldn’t help but tense as Prince began to pace. 

The logical side cleared his throat before continuing. “You were talking in your sleep for a few minutes.” 

And Virgil suddenly would rather fall back into a restless, terrifying sleep than continue to have this conversation. 

“Virgil, you...we don’t have to discuss this today if you aren’t ready. But after today, the logical conclusion is that you were not...treated well, in a sense, by the dark sides.” 

And he’d known it was coming, the dreaded question he still didn’t know how to answer, the cold blinding fear that came with thinking about how to even start. 

“Oh, honey.” Patton reached for his free hand slowly, and Virgil didn’t pull away. He heard Roman stop his pacing. “Did he...Virgil, even if we were angry we would never  _ ever  _ hit--” 

_ “He didn’t,”  _ Virgil snapped, loud and sudden enough to shock the whole room into silence. “I...he never...did anything like that. It wasn’t...look, the dark sides obviously aren’t great company, but it wasn’t that bad.” 

Even he thought his words sounded unconvincing. But it was the truth. Wasn’t it? 

“Deceit-” Logan paused to glance around the room, like the dark side would materialize at any second to silence him. “-is...exceptionally good at manipulation. You know that. If a person is told a lie enough times, it isn’t unheard of for them to begin to believe it. Especially an abuse victim.” 

Something about the way it was said, detached and rational like Virgil was just another statistic, just felt  _ wrong.  _ It wasn’t like that. It  _ wasn’t.  _

“I’m not a  _ victim,”  _ he spat, aware he was being unfairly defensive. “I’m...Logan, that’s not what  _ happened.  _ It wasn’t like that, I would know if it was!” 

“Not necessarily--” 

“It’s  _ over,”  _ Virgil said, growing more and more unsure what point he was even trying to make. “It’s...I would remember by now, wouldn’t I?” 

There were tears in his eyes again, clouding his vision as they threatened to spill over, but they stemmed from frustration this time rather than fear. 

“I don’t...why don’t I  _ remember?”  _

He should be able to remember. If it was real, if it happened, if it was that big of a deal, he would know. But he couldn’t, so it didn’t happen. It wasn’t real. An overreaction, like usual. 

So why couldn’t he believe that? 

“You don’t need to know for sure right now,” Roman spoke up, having moved to stand a few paces behind Logan. “It’s ok. Whatever happens and...whatever  _ happened,  _ we’ll be here to help.” 

They were all looking at him, sincere and gentle and  _ kind.  _ Patton had tears streaming down his face and Virgil could practically see the gears turning in Logan’s brain. 

Bur Princey still had an unfamiliar glazed look in his eyes, something distant and antsy about the way he held himself, and Virgil ignored the knot in his stomach in favor of nodding slowly, wiping his eyes with his sleeves. 

“Ok,” he said, still curled up in a protective ball with his hands clasped in Logan’s and Patton’s. “Can we just...drop it for now? Please?” 

Logan looked like he wanted to protest, but relaxed almost instantly at a gentle, knowing look from Patton. 

“Of course, kiddo,” he said, as the other slowly pulled his hand away. “How about we all watch a movie? Then you won’t be alone if you drift off again.” 

At a small, relieved sigh from Virgil, the others got to work on setting up for the evening, bringing extra blankets and pillows to the living room while quietly debating on what to watch, careful not to be too loud. 

Virgil watched his family, still huddled up against the couch cushions, fighting to focus on the safety around him to keep from drowning in his thoughts. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ended up splitting this last chapter because I work unbelievably slow.

It was nice while it lasted. 

Virgil had given Patton full control over what movies were played during their spur of the moment marathon, the obvious tension in the room already easing as the other side practically squealed in delight. 

The first hour was the worst of it. Virgil had pulled back from the others, tucked away in his own little corner of the couch, hidden in his hoodie, the others allowing him to have the space he needed. 

He didn’t miss the less than subtle glances they all kept throwing his way, how Patton and Roman would quickly look away and pretend to be paying attention to the TV, or the way Logan would sheepishly meet his eyes when he was too slow to look away, too wrapped up in his thoughts. 

The lingering attention wasn’t doing much to quell his anxiety, mind racing with what they could be possibly thinking in their silence.

Maybe he was right all along, maybe this was just a kind way to soften the blow of telling him to leave, of telling him they  _ tried- _ really, they had- but he was just too much. Not worth the effort. 

Realistically, he knew they were just worried. Worried about his well being and nothing more. But he couldn’t help it- the last dream had been more vivid than the others, and Deceit’s chilling whispers still wouldn’t leave his head. 

But, gradually, it did get better. The movies were an easy distraction, as were the corny jokes from Patton and the usual unimpressed remarks from Logan. Roman was...unusually quiet, and Virgil had to pry his focus away from the creative side. 

Later. He could panic over that later. 

By the time the second movie was halfway over Patton was carefully (painfully obviously) making his way closer to Virgil’s side, pointedly not making any sudden movements. 

Logan visibly eased once he saw Virgil allowing Patton’s presence, looking less and less apprehensive as the minutes went by. Roman was less wound up too, but his usual commentary was still missing, the prince more focused on his lap than the movie. 

_ He doesn’t want to be here.  _

That all too familiar whisper, the one that sounded suspiciously like Deceit tonight, reared its ugly head without warning, zeroing in on Roman’s antsy behavior. 

_ They’re all faking it. They don’t want you. _

Virgil swallowed, hoping Patton wouldn’t realize how stiff he’d suddenly gone. He willed the voice away, doing his best to focus on the movie. 

_ You make them so miserable. Look at them, they’d be so much happier if you’d just take a hint and disappear. They’re getting fed up. They’ll make you leave soon. You’ve really done it this time.  _

Virgil was sitting up before he was even sure what his plan was, mind running on panicked autopilot, distantly aware of three pairs of eyes following him. 

“I, uh--I’ll be right back. Just...just need to use the bathroom.” 

He thought Patton might have called to him, but Virgil was hurrying down the hall and ducking into the bathroom before he could register what was being said, shutting and locking the door behind him. 

_ Stupid, stupid,  _ **_stupid_ ** _. They think you’re pathetic. They pity you. They wish you’d just leave.  _

Virgil turned on the sink to block out any sound, the water scorching and already creating a slight fog against the mirror. He was panicking again, chest squeezing too tight, right when he had just started to calm down. 

_ How can you expect anyone to want to deal with this? How long do you think they’ll keep pretending?  _

It wasn’t true. These thoughts hadn’t been this persistent for a long time, not since they’d all so clearly made such an effort to make him feel welcome, make him feel like family. 

One bad day shouldn’t be doing this to them. Deceit’s brief appearance shouldn’t have him acting this selfishly. 

_ Roman’s already given up. You saw him. The others will take his side. He’s right to let you go. They all are.  _

He shoved his hands under the flow of hot water, hoping the temporary flare of burning pain would be enough to shut his brain up. 

_ They’ll hurt you.  _

Apparently not. His skin stung as he shakily turned off the faucet, backing up against the far wall with his nails digging into his scalp. 

_ It’s what you deserve, isn’t it? For making their life so miserable? Over and over again, no matter how much you try. They’re angry. They’re tired of it. Tired of you.  _

It wasn’t true. None of this was, he  _ knew  _ that. Sure, he was a lot to handle sometimes. The bad more than often outweighed the good. He rained on their parade more often than not, he did nothing but point out flaws, and he couldn’t help but bring the mood down in almost any situation. 

He was a lot. He didn’t respond well to kindness very easily, he didn’t know how to communicate, what with a majority of his life spent in isolation, but he was  _ trying.  _

He was trying, and so were they. They wouldn’t lie to his face for this long, only to pull the rug out from under him when things got too much. 

Right? 

If nothing else, he knew it was impossible to fake the unabashed looks of horror that had crossed each of their faces at the realization that Virgil thought he was going to be hit. 

They wouldn’t hurt him. No matter what he put them through. It wasn’t like before when--

His thoughts screeched to a halt, flickering like a faulty wire. For a second, there was nothing but numbing static, like a warning sign to turn back, to shut down and look the other way, ignore the cold suspicion creeping up for the first time in so many years. 

Virgil pushed away from the wall, quickly drying his hands and stepping back into the hallway, the bathroom suddenly too quiet and small. 

But he couldn’t get that nagging idea out of his head, the memories that he wasn’t even quite sure existed, loosely fabricated ideas and false images that felt just a bit too real to be completely imagined. 

But he would...he would have thought about this before, wouldn’t he? He’d had plenty of alone time before the other sides accepted him, why should a few days of nightmares and some words from Logan make him think anything different than what had always been true. 

But Deceit...manipulation was his specialty, wasn’t it? Little truths filtered in his constant lies, his sickly sweet tone, always saying what everyone wanted to hear. 

And when things didn’t go his way…

It was almost unheard of for Deceit to lose his cool. He was calm and collected, confident, and patient. But on that rare occasion when he did snap, the dark side had a temper that greatly rivaled any of the light sides. He lashed out, verbally or physically, doing anything he needed to cling to what little control he had. 

Virgil knew that. It was a fact, it was something to fear and be wary of, especially now that Thomas knew about the other sides. 

So why couldn’t he remember a single example? 

_ “Don’t  _ say things like that.” 

Virgil stopped in his tracks, just a few steps from the entryway, close enough to hear the unfamiliar outburst from Patton. His voice sounded panicked and...hurt? 

“So, I’m wrong?” Roman’s voice was even louder, almost furious, followed by a frantic shush from Logan. “Tell me I’m wrong then, Patton! Tell me that there’s some other reason for- for all of  _ this!”  _

Virgil couldn’t remember a time he’d heard Princey sound...so genuinely upset. The fanciful side was loud, boisterous and emotional over the smallest things, but the raw pain and frustration in his voice now brought forth a new wave of panic as Virgil slowly made his way down the hall. 

Maybe it was just a misunderstanding, a simple disagreement about something entirely unrelated. Maybe--

“We shouldn’t discuss this now,” Logan said, effectively pushing away any lingering hope. “He’ll be back soon.” 

Roman scoffed, and Virgil heard someone shift on the couch, followed by pacing footsteps. Virgil felt sick, dark thoughts quickly creeping back up with a vengeance. 

“Right,” Princey said. “Of course, we’ll just keep ignoring it. We’ll keep letting it happen over and over again and we’ll never bring it up until something like  _ this  _ happens again.” 

“Roman  _ please.”  _ Patton sounded like he was on the verge of tears. Virgil wasn’t faring much better, despite how long he’d been preparing for something like this, begrudgingly expecting it. 

“No. No, I…” Roman took a shuddering breath before continuing. “I’ll talk to him about it. I can’t keep...I  _ have  _ to. You two have always been better at...handling this but I...I can never…”

He trailed off, but it wasn’t hard for Virgil to pick up on what Roman was saying. 

He couldn’t handle Virgil. He’d never been able to, and he never would. He didn’t even want to. The other two were barely managing as it was, but it was gradually becoming too much. 

“We all knew it would happen eventually,” Roman settled on, talking over whatever Patton halfheartedly tried to argue. “I can’t let it continue. I can’t.” 

Virgil held his breath as the room fell silent, hovering by the entrance to the living room as he tried and failed to blink away the fresh set of tears threatening to fall. 

“If that’s what you feel is best,” Logan said slowly. “Then...I think you should talk to him when you’ve calmed yourself. Perhaps we should all--” 

He stopped as soon as Virgil stepped into the room, shoulders hunched and hands buried in his hoodie, suddenly wishing he hadn’t bothered to come back at all. 

For a moment, everyone was frozen, all eyes on him. Roman had stopped his pacing, looking more like a skittish rabbit than a heroic prince at the moment, Logan sat near Patton with a comforting hand on the moral side’s shoulder. 

“Virgil!” And then Patton was jumping up from the couch, fiddling with his glasses, clearly unsure of what he was supposed to be doing. “You feeling ok, kiddo?” 

“I’m…” he faltered, grimacing when his voice cracked and the worry in Patton’s eyes only increased. He refused to look at Princey. “Actually, uh, not really. I think I’m just gonna head up to my room.” 

“Oh.” Patton’s worry was quickly changing to something closer to panicked understanding. “You sure? We can--” 

“It’s fine,” he said a bit too quickly, hearing Roman take an uneasy step closer. “I need to be alone for a bit. I’m ok, Pat.” 

Princey spoke up just as he was about to sink out to the safety of his own room, his usually resonant voice now tentative and small, painfully unsure. 

“Virgil?” he called, and there was no beating around the bush, no pretending Virgil hadn’t unwittingly eavesdropped. “I...I didn’t mean for it to sound like--” 

“It’s fine, Princey.” 

“It’s not...none of this is your  _ fault,  _ I just--” 

“I  _ get it,  _ Roman,” Virgil snapped, too fast and too cruel, the same mistake that had gotten him into this mess in the first place. He could feel his walls fighting to build themselves back up, the defenses he hadn’t needed for over a year now. “I’m sorry I'm...we can talk about it later. Alright?” 

He didn’t give any of them time to respond, didn’t even glance up to see if anyone tried. The carpeted living room floor swallowed him up, shifting until he was back in the familiar confines of his bedroom, wondering if anyone would bother to come looking if he decided not to come out again. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned incredibly gay but could still be read as platonic

After the fight in the kitchen, the panic attacks, and nightmares, the day somehow  _ still  _ wasn’t over. 

It was just past six in the evening, a little late for Patton to begin cooking dinner but Virgil thought he could smell something wafting through the mindscape halls. 

The thought of eating made him sick. 

The thought of sitting down with the others right now made him think he might actually throw up. 

Alone in the dark, sluggish and exhausted in the isolation of his room, it wasn’t even worth the effort of trying to block out the nagging thoughts in his head, the cold and mocking truths playing like a pounding echo. 

He’d been stupid to think it wouldn’t end up like this eventually, to have that growing spark of hope that they’d keep giving him more chances, keep working to include him. 

And maybe for a while, they had. Maybe the others still would extend some kind of olive branch, reminding him that as impossible as he was to put up with, they still needed him for Thomas to function. They could...coexist in some kind of peaceful way. 

Virgil should be grateful for that. It was selfish to want any more than what they were still willing to offer. 

Wasn’t it? 

He should take what he could get. Logan and Patton hadn’t seemed ready to give up on him completely just yet, though he couldn’t deny they had sounded in agreement with Roman, however reluctant it was. 

And Roman...hadn’t meant to sound malicious. He had been quick to backtrack when he’d realized Virgil had overheard, though that wasn’t much better. The idea of them faking their love for any longer than they had to sent chills down Virgil’s spine. 

How long had they been faking already? Forcing smiles and kind words, waiting for him to take an unspoken hint and back out. 

How long had they wanted it to go back to the way it was? The three of them a happy, functional family and Virgil, the antagonist, left alone and overlooked in his dark room of seclusion. 

He was fear. He was a villain. He only brought Thomas down. And, now that he’d been allowed to grow close to them, the others had found he brought them down too. 

It was unavoidable. He wasn’t meant to stay like this, wasn’t meant to be shown any kindness or compassion. 

But the thought of it going back to the way it was, back to the hatred and loneliness...he couldn’t do it. Not after all this time. Not when it had felt so,  _ so real.  _

There was a knock on his door, loud enough to bleed through the music blasting from his headphone, and Virgil cautiously paused the noise and waited, curled up in a tight ball under his blankets. 

“Kiddo?” Patton called from outside, his voice always so kind and genuine, and Virgil’s heart clenched at the reminder of what he might be losing. “You doing alright in there?”

Virgil bit his lip, doing all he could to keep himself from breaking down into another fit of sobs. He didn’t need Patton to be any more worried than he already was. 

“I’m fine, Pat,” he managed, surprising himself with how steady his voice came out. “Sorry I ran off on you like that.” 

“Don’t be sorry, Kiddo.” Patton hesitated, shuffling on the other side of the door. “I’m...I’m sorry if we overwhelmed you a bit.” 

“You guys didn’t do anything wrong.” 

There was a heavy silence that stretched on long enough for Virgil to think Patton may have given up and gone back to the others, but after a moment he heard an unsteady breath, like the moral side was preparing himself for something he didn’t want to do. 

That could never mean anything good. 

“Virgil,” he started. “About what Roman was saying earlier…” 

And Virgil really,  _ really _ did not want to have this conversation right now. Not when he couldn’t even bring himself to look Patton in the eyes. He curled in on himself, tightening his grip on the blankets. 

“It’s fine,” he said, and Patton immediately went silent. “Seriously, it-it’s fine, Pat. Don’t worry about it.” 

“But--” 

“Besides, he’s got a right to say it.” He needed to stop talking. This wasn’t the time. “It’s not like he’s wrong or anything.” 

A beat of silence, and then Patton spoke again, sounded so unabashedly heartbroken. “It...he’s  _ not?”  _

And as much as that nearly shattered what little resolve he had left, there was no denying the nearly suffocating relief that came with the new flare of hope. Maybe he hadn’t completely ruined everything after all. Not if Patton still cared. Not if Logan was still willing to at least pretend. 

But Roman...a year ago Virgil wouldn’t think twice about what the Prince thought of him. He’d been hated from the start, dismissed and ridiculed out of necessity, and the two of them had fallen into an easy role of mutual distaste. 

But time went on, they grew closer, got to know one another, and Virgil couldn’t pretend Princey didn’t mean anything to him anymore. He cared about Roman as much as he did the others, and he’d tried so,  _ so  _ hard to prove he could be better. 

And Roman had tried too. He’d made an effort to be kinder, more understanding and patient with Virgil. And it was a process, one with noticeably slower progress than his relationship with Logan and Patton, but it had gotten better.

But he’d messed that up, and he wouldn’t force Roman to keep trying. Princey had done everything right, he’d done more than enough, but Virgil could never seem to get it right. The last thing he wanted was for the people he loved to be unhappy. 

It didn’t make the end hurt any less. 

When it became clear Virgil didn’t have an answer, he heard Patton sigh, guilt only increasing when the breath sounded wobbly and short. 

“I...Dinner’s ready if you’re hungry. I know you haven’t eaten much today.” 

Between the aching pit in his stomach and the terrifying thought of facing anybody right now, Virgil couldn’t imagine a punishment worse than sitting down for dinner. 

“Not really hungry right now.” 

“Ok, kiddo.” Patton’s voice was soft, sad, and understanding. “I’ll save you some leftovers.” 

In the silence that followed, Virgil assumed that was the end of it. He’d be left alone for the night, maybe longer depending on how things played out at dinner, able to wallow in his thoughts and figure out how to approach things on his own. 

“Virgil?” Patton called suddenly, startling the anxious side as he moved to turn his music back on. “Just... _ talk  _ to Roman for me, ok? Neither one of you are very keen on that, I know but...I think it could help before things get...any worse.” 

Virgil didn’t have a response to that, and the other side clearly wasn’t expecting one, his quiet footsteps fading down the hall as he left to rejoin the others. 

He sighed, running a hand that refused to stop trembling through his hair, falling back against his pillows and adjusting his music until he could silence his racing thoughts. 

He didn’t plan on sleeping any time soon, not after the restless nights and suffocating dreams that didn’t show any signs of letting up. 

He was resigned to stare at his ceiling as long as it took for the others to forget about him, keeping his mind carefully blank, ignoring the heavy, growing weight settling atop his chest as the hours ticked by. 

It was past two in the morning by the time Virgil begrudgingly remembered that he did, in fact, need to eat something eventually. Even if it was just a handful of granola bars he could steal from the kitchen for the next few days. 

The hallway seemed quiet enough, and he was fairly certain none of the other sides would be up this late. 

He took a breath, listening one more time to make sure he couldn’t hear anyone still up and about, and slipped out of his room, making his way to the kitchen. 

It was an odd feeling, being scared to walk the halls of his own home, a part of him terrified of running into the people he openly called family. Or at least, the people who had been family to him less than a day ago. 

He needed to get a hold of himself. All he was doing was grabbing some food in the middle of the night. It wasn’t like he was known for having the healthiest sleep schedule, getting up to grab a snack this late was almost a nightly occurrence. 

He didn’t bother turning any lights on, easily feeling his way to the fridge and letting the artificial glow spill onto the tiled floor. There was a container of what looked like spaghetti on the middle shelf, a small piece of paper with his name scribbled on it taped to the lid. 

Virgil smiled despite himself, bringing the food to the counter, making a mental note to thank Patton next time he could bring himself to leave his room during the day. 

Maybe it was the lack of sleep, maybe it was the overwhelming barrage of thoughts that hadn’t stopped in hours, but Virgil hadn’t realized the new presence in the kitchen until they spoke up, still busy scraping cold spaghetti onto his plate. 

“Virge?” 

Virgil jumped back like he’d been electrocuted, dropping his fork on the counter, whirling around to face the dark entryway. If Roman heard the undignified yelp the other side had involuntarily made, he didn’t say anything. 

“Sorry,” Princey said, fidgeting slightly, and Virgil had to fight down the urge to flee and lock himself in his room for the rest of the night. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” 

Virgil shrugged, eyeing the hallway currently blocked by Roman before glancing back at his awaiting leftovers. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and the creative side probably had no intention of talking this late. Turning his back slowly, he went back to preparing his food. 

When Roman did speak again, it was quieter than he was used to, more hesitant and unsure. “I’m gonna turn on a light, ok?” 

“Whatever.” 

The light flickered on, still a gentle dim glow, and Virgil kept his head down and shoulders hunched as he finished making his plate, calculating the sound of Roman’s footsteps as he rinsed out the container and put the leftovers in the microwave. 

Princey had apparently only gotten up to get a drink, Virgil leaned up against the counter as the other side moved quickly from the cupboard to the fridge, the silence heavy and tense. 

He kept his eyes on the floor, waiting for Roman to get what he needed and leave, but the other side just hesitated, drumming his fingers along the handle of the fridge. 

“Virgil,” he said after a moment, shattering the delicate silence. “Can we...can we talk for a second?” 

And there it was. The one question he’d been dreading, the one thing he’d been trying to avoid for as long as possible. He didn’t  _ want  _ to talk about this yet. He didn’t want to face reality. He wanted to pretend things were ok for just a little bit longer. 

But inevitably, it was Roman’s decision in the end. So he turned warily until he was facing the other side, nodding reluctantly and waiting for the worst. 

Roman, to his credit, didn’t look like he had actually expected Virgil to cooperate. He set his cup down, rubbed the back of his neck uneasily, eyes going from Virgil, to the floor, then back to Virgil again. 

“I’m, uh, I know this isn’t...the best time but I think we should. Just so we’re...on the same page. Then we can figure out what to do about it.” 

Virgil scoffed, trying to push down the hollow ache in his chest at the words.  _ Figure out what they were gonna do.  _ How they could coexist without being friends. “Did Patton tell you that?”

And Roman actually looked hurt at that, Virgil quickly averting his gaze. “No.  _ I  _ wanted to. You don’t deserve to have this just...continue. I should have said something sooner.” 

“Right. Ok.” 

Roman sighed, running a hand through his hair, and for the life of him Virgil couldn’t figure out why this was so hard for him to say. It was what he wanted, after all, and it wasn’t like Virgil was making any attempts to be friendly tonight. 

“I guess you already know,” Princey started. “You, uh, you definitely overheard me, right? I know I tend to get carried away, and--” 

“Yeah,” Virgil said, certain he would start crying again if Roman went on one of his rants. He just wanted to get this over with. “You need to learn to control your volume, Princey.” 

The most he got was the ghost of a smile, and something unreadable in the other’s eyes. He wasn’t used to seeing the fanciful side look so reserved. 

“I know,” he said softly. “I know I should have come to you sooner but it’s just...Virgil, I don’t even know what to  _ say.  _ I-I don’t know how to tell you--” 

“Roman, it’s fine.” This was worse. Drawing it out like this, trying to account for Virgil’s feelings, it was so much worse than a simple dismissal of what they used to be. He wanted this to be over. “I get it, ok? I do, I promise. You don’t have to--” 

“No, I  _ do!”  _

Roman hadn’t exactly yelled, not like that morning when they’d been fighting, but it was a loud enough outburst to make Virgil flinch, shocking him into silence. The other side had the decency to look apologetic, gripping his sleeve tight enough to tear the seams. 

“I do,” he repeated, quieter this time, words laced in clear distress. “I have to. You...you deserve to hear it.” 

There was a pang in his chest, though he was really unsure if it was meant to be an insult or not. But he shrugged, resigning himself to whatever the Prince wanted to do to him. 

Roman took a breath, still clearly unsure about what it was that he wanted to say, and he didn’t even seem to notice when he started pacing the kitchen again, clearly a nervous habit when he was fighting to regain control over a situation. 

“Virgil, I...I am so,  _ so  _ sorry.” 

And that was...not what he’d been expecting. And he  _ definitely  _ wasn’t expecting to see Roman’s wide, desperate eyes brimming with unshed tears. 

“Princey?” 

“What happened today...I know it was my fault, ok? You don’t have to...I shouldn’t have let it get this bad. I should have realized something sooner and I’m sorry, Virge. I’m so sorry I made you feel this way.” 

_ What?  _ A dark part of Virgil’s mind wondered briefly if this was some kind of trick, or some weird vivid hallucination he’d decided to dream up. What the hell was Roman talking about? 

“I know we haven’t always gotten along,” he continued, staring at Virgil like he was begging him to understand. “Before I got to know you I treated you like...like-like you were...a villain. But you’re  _ not  _ Virgil. You never were, and I see that now. 

We got to know you and you were...you’re  _ amazing _ , Virge. You care so much, even after everything we put you through. You gave us another chance and, and I promise we’ve all been trying. Some of us are just...better at it than others, I guess.” 

Roman laughed, a dry and broken sound void of any humor, and Virgil could only stare, now completely at a loss of what on earth was going on. 

But Roman wasn’t done, pausing only to rub at his watering eyes and take an unsteady breath. Behind them, the microwave announced that it was done heating up the leftovers, but Virgil didn’t even give it a second thought. 

“I know how hard you try, Virge,” the Prince went on. “We all see it- I know you worry we don’t- and we’re so,  _ so  _ proud. And we’re trying too. Everyday. It’s just...I-I’ve obviously done something wrong but I don’t know  _ what.”  _

“Wait, Roman--” 

“You thought I was going to _hurt_ _you.”_ It wasn’t a question when he said it, just a breathy, terrified statement, Roman no longer even trying to keep back his tears. “You thought--Patton and Logan, they-they were able to help you but I just kept making it worse and...and you thought…you thought I would...” 

Oh.  _ Oh no.  _ No, no, no, oh god, he was such an idiot. 

“Oh, shit Roman no--” 

But the Prince cut him off again, clearly desperate for Virgil to hear an apology that was never necessary in the first place.

“I know I wasn’t always...kind to you,” he said. “But I wouldn’t...I would never _ hurt _ you, Virgil.  _ Never.  _ And I promise I’ll do everything I can to make you believe that, I--” 

He only stopped when Virgil, at a complete loss of how to fix this, moved forward and threw his arms around Roman, pressing himself against the Prince’s chest and holding tight. 

For a moment, the other side was tense and unmoving in his hold, but it didn’t take him long to snap out of his shock, gradually relaxing and returning the embrace, strong, warm arms wrapping around Virgil’s back. 

They stayed like that, Prince resting his chin against Virgil’s hair, his breaths coming in quick, stuttering gasps, holding the smaller side like he could slip away at any moment. 

Roman had taken off his usual jacket and sash, but just like Virgil he hadn’t dressed for bed, clearly having no plans to sleep until this was taken care of, until he confessed just how sorry he was. 

Virgil clutched him just a little bit tighter, silently cursing himself for letting it get this bad, for ever thinking for a second that Roman could give up on anything. He was stronger than that, and Virgil loved him beyond words. 

They could have stayed like that for hours, holding each other while they cried, swaying slightly in the kitchen’s dim lighting, the rest of the world melting away for a few blissful moments. 

But then Roman cleared his throat, loosening his grip slightly but making no move to pull away. “So...does this mean I’m forgiven, then?” 

Virgil made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob, face still burrowed in Roman’s chest as he answered, quiet and muffled. 

“You’re an idiot, Princey.” Roman froze, breath catching in his throat, and Virgil was quick to continue. “I didn’t think--I  _ never  _ thought that Roman, I swear, I  _ swear _ I didn’t think you would--” 

He broke off when Roman finally dropped his arms, straining to meet the other side’s gaze, but Virgil still refused to let go, relief and fear hitting all at once, making him feel almost terrified Roman would still leave him behind if he learned just what was going on inside his head. 

Thankfully, Roman seemed to know better than to push him away, moving instead to rub circles along his back, keeping his voice soft. 

“But you...I know you overheard what I was saying,” he said. “And Patton said...he said you agreed. He said you--you said I was right.” 

Oh, god. Oh god,  _ Patton.  _ God, he was so  _ stupid _ , caught up in his own little world, always overthinking, always thinking he wasn’t doing enough, never considering that he could ruin everything by doing _ too much. _

“No, no  _ no.”  _

The guilt was overwhelming now, squeezing at his chest, clawing at his throat, threatening to send him under a new wave of panic. He forced it back, furiously shaking his head, willing Prince to understand. 

“No, Roman that’s not--god, I’m such an idiot, I should have  _ asked.  _ Fuck, Roman, I’m so sorry, I completely misunderstood and you thought--” 

“Misunderstood?” Roman asked, his voice growing a bit more steady, edging on hopeful. “What did you think I was talking about?” 

Virgil swallowed, pulling back from Roman’s chest, hands moving to clutch the other side’s sleeves like a lifeline instead. His face burned as he stared at the ground, wondering if Roman would be upset if Virgil came clean. He might just laugh and agree to pretend the whole thing never happened. 

“It’s whatever,” he muttered, refusing to lift his head. “Seriously, it’s just my stupid brain overreacting again. It was dumb, I shouldn’t have ever thought like that.” 

There was a hand cupping his jaw, warm and gentle, slowly lifting his chin until he was looking Roman in the eyes, seeing nothing but worry and compassion, pure and genuine. 

“Virgil?” he pressed. “What did you think I meant?” 

He wouldn’t be upset, and he wouldn’t laugh. Right? And even if he did, it wasn’t like the reaction was undeserved. Besides, he had a right to know. Virgil had put him through hell tonight. 

“I thought...look, I know sometimes I’m a lot to handle and I just got it into my head that after all this shit today you couldn’t...you were giving up. On me.” 

He was met with deafening silence, eyes falling away from Roman’s piercing stare, heart racing in his throat as he waited for any kind of response. 

“Oh,  _ Virge.”  _

And then Roman’s hand was moving, pulling Virgil back into another hug, and with this one he allowed himself to fall apart completely, loud, desperate sobs muffled only by Prince’s encouraging, wordless whispers. 

He only grew silent when Virgil managed to get a hold of himself once again, his grip a little less desperate and his breaths coming a bit easier, still pressed close against the other side, too exhausted to be embarrassed. 

Princey took a breath, something that might have been a laugh or a sigh. “And you said  _ I  _ was the idiot.” 

Virgil finally pulled back, unable to stop himself from smiling as he stuffed his hands back into his hoodie pockets. “You’re an ass.” 

Roman shrugged, still smiling, still uncharacteristically quiet and worried, looking almost small and vulnerable in the kitchen’s poor lighting. 

“Right,” he said. “Well, uh, well I won’t keep you from your dinner any longer! Until tomorrow, Stormy Knight.” 

It might have been Virgil’s imagination, but he could have sworn Roman sounded almost reluctant to leave, hesitating a moment before turning to go, and the other side was speaking before he could think better of it. 

“You can stay.” Roman paused, eyes brightening, and Virgil shifted under his gaze. “I mean, if you want. If you don’t want to be alone.” 

And there was Princey’s smile again, the one Virgil wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before today, soft and real and understanding. He wouldn’t mind seeing it more often. 

Virgil reheated his leftover spaghetti, Roman bustling around to make a piece of toast and jam behind him. They ate in relative silence, settling at the breakfast bar, the exhaustion that settled into Virgil’s bones only continuing to drag him downward, the day's events hitting full force. 

He didn’t particularly want to face another night of nightmares, of Deceit’s taunts and lies and questions about whatever the hell had actually happened between them. Tonight definitely wasn’t a night he could manage another all-nighter, but as long as Roman stayed for a little bit longer he might be able to handle it. 

“Virge?” 

It took him a moment to realize Princey was calling him softly, suddenly much closer than he had been a couple moments ago. 

He must have spaced out at some point, his vision clouding, the fork having fallen from his fingers to the plate without him noticing, the spaghetti only half-eaten. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, lightheaded and beyond embarrassed now. He owed Roman so many apologies for tonight. “Haven’t been sleeping very well.” 

“You done eating?” 

Virgil managed a small nod, followed quickly by the second undignified yelp of the night as Roman put one of Virgil’s arms around his shoulders, lifting the anxious side off the stool and starting down the hall. 

“What’re you--?” 

“Well, I’m not going to leave you to pass out on the floor,” Roman said, and Virgil couldn’t help but hum happily at the warmth of the other side’s hold. “You’ve had quite a day. The least I can do is make sure my knight in shining armor gets a proper night’s sleep!” 

If he had the energy, Virgil would have mentioned how unlikely that was, that the nightmares hadn’t let up for a week now, no matter how tired he was, but all he could do was mutter something indecipherable in response. 

He dozed off sometime during the trek through the hallway, blinking his eyes open as Roman was lowering him down onto the bed, humming something under his breath as he pulled back the comforter. 

It took Virgil a moment to realize that the room was too bright to be his own, a warm, almost golden glow coming from the bedside lamp, the blankets soft and red, an odd feeling of peace seeping through his weariness. 

“Wait, why’re--” 

“I don’t think...either of us want to be alone,” Roman admitted, uncharacteristically sheepish. “Besides, I have some sway over this room. It could help you sleep. Can’t hurt to try, right?” 

Virgil couldn’t even begin to form a coherent sentence, managing only a small smile as he fell back against the pillows, only realizing he still had a grip on Roman’s sleeve when the other side carefully slid in beside him. 

A year ago, Virgil would never dream of letting his guard down like this around anyone, let alone Roman. He kept up his dark persona, intimidating the others in cooperation. 

And when he was accepted, listened to out of understanding rather than fear, he’d been terrified of pity. He’d been terrified of seeming weak, of losing any influence he’d earned. 

But now, vaguely aware of Roman’s fingers carding through his hair, still humming a vaguely familiar tune, the relief of having a family who still cared about him drowning out any fear or uncertainty, he could almost forget what had made him think he would lose them in the first place. 

For the first time in almost a week, the nightmares didn’t make a single appearance, Virgil sleeping soundly for the rest of the night. 

And if a worried Patton came in to check on Roman the next morning and found the two of them curled up by the headboard, Roman with a protective arm over Virgil, neither of them needed to know about the photos that wound up on the moral side’s phone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unsympathetic dark sides are so much fun for angst, and I will probably write more, but I swear I love Janus and Remus and will write some sympathetic dark side stuff eventually


End file.
